


Seattle

by Poppedthep



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Adult Content, M/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 20:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19092685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppedthep/pseuds/Poppedthep
Summary: Vanjie sees Brooke Lynn picking up trade on tour. This ensues.





	Seattle

**Author's Note:**

> This is an extract from a longer AU I'm writing that I think works as a one shot. All you need to know is they're still broken up and are hooking up on tour, acting very friendly and affectionate with each other.
> 
> I went with a place name title to stay on theme with my other one shots but this one isn't inspired by anything real at all, these characters are completely and totally fictional, even more fictional than I usually write them. (Or maybe it's inspired by Vanjie commenting "Ladies boy" on Brooke Lynn's thirsty insta selfies? Eh who can say!)
> 
> Mature content ahead - proceed if you're into that!

Brock hooked up with other trade on tour.

He and Jose weren’t dating. They weren’t exclusive. But he had to be discreet about it when Vanjie was around, not wanting to make him upset or angry.

He was direct, practical, but he wasn't a monster. Jose wasn't his boyfriend but he still cared about his feelings. 

He was pretty good at sneaking it past Vanj. He flirted openly with whoever he felt like, as had always been his way, but was careful not to kiss people in front of him or obviously leave with anyone if they were out as a group.

He didn’t even pick up trade that often. Not compared to how he usually was.

There wasn’t really a need for it with Jose there, trade himself, and willing. Not to mention pleasantly familiar.

But once in a while Brock met someone particularly gorgeous or was feeling especially hot himself and had the urge to be young and free and adventurous.

For a while he managed to keep it out of Jose’s sight completely.

In Seattle Jose saw him making out with trade at a bar after the show.

They just stopped in for one on the way back to the hotel, all in sweats and tees and baseball caps, not planning a big night. But the trade was good in Seattle and the mood was fun in the bar and they ended up staying for more, Jose tearing up the dancefloor with Silky, A'Keria and Ra'jah.

The guy who captured Brock's attention was heavily bearded in plaid, looking like he'd just finished building a log cabin, and Brock felt like a little Canadian ballerina on prom night with those big hands on his waist. He was tipsy and flirting and the kiss happened before he thought about it. Brock titled his head back giggling after the kiss and over his shoulder he saw Jose a couple feet away, staring.

Jose quickly looked away. Started screaming at the nearest person, which happened to be Silky, dragging her off to dance, like he hadn’t been looking and more to the point didn’t care.

But Brock had seen the flash of hurt and it sat horribly in his stomach.

Jose was off with him for a couple days after that.

He was off with everyone. It was disorienting to see him with a steely hard look instead of his usual bright cute smile.

The trade had been big, muscled, hyper masculine, and Jose took to dressing in his most pimp-like boy clothes out of drag, not shaving properly even though it fucked with his make up. As Vanjie his looks became even more unapologetically hoodrat - chola bitch on the way to a gang fight, ice cold and intimidating. Eyes rolling at Brock as if to say  _I dare you, white boy_. 

He went from warmth and good humor incarnate to distant, brushing off Brock's comments and cuddles coldly. Out of drag especially treating Brock so rough and straight-boy it was almost mean, sharp with the undercurrent of _that’s what you like don’t you?_

Brock wanted to tell him to stop, to be himself, that he was perfect as he was and he deserved the world and Brock wished he could be the one to give it to him.

All of which was true but it was also true that Brock did find big manly men sexy. He was a gay boy - so sue him. He found jacked bearded daddy types sexy and sweet beautiful boyish Jose sexy and plenty of other types of men sexy and that was fine by him.

But Jose struggled with the comparison, apparently latching on to what he thought could be a reason Brock couldn’t commit to him. When the actual reasons weren’t anything to do with him - they were Brock’s own issues.

Of course Brock said none of this to him. It didn’t even cross his repressed Canadian mind to actually verbalize something so emotionally complex - out loud? To another human? No thank you.

It came to a head a week or so later when they got drunk and hooked up in the dressing room after everyone else left.

Everyone started doing shots during the show, which Brock knew was a bad idea, but after a week of being ignored by Jose he felt like taking the edge off. They all kiki-ed while de-dragging, googling a bar to hit up on the way back to the hotel and Brock felt Jose’s eyes keep settling on him.

Having missed the attention the past couple days the feeling was palpable and he went to great effort to slow down his routine, for once not first ready. Lingering last at his mirror.

Everyone left loudly, Jose hanging back and shouting to Silky he’d meet them there and then the two of them were left in an empty dressing room in tense silence.

Brock wondered if he should apologise. But he hadn’t technically done anything to be sorry for.

He wondered what Jose would do if he tried to kiss him. He was several tequilas in and feeling like he’d like to be kissed.

Jose boxed him in against his dressing room table, fiery like a little pitbull, the intensity of his energy making Brock forget he was the taller one and acquiesce immediately.

Jose stepped close and tilted his face down. He ran a thumb along the shadow of stubble on his jaw, across his full bottom lip and Brock pouted and chased it with his tongue. Jose shook his head, and muttered, “Ho.”

He was staring at Brock’s mouth, wouldn’t look him in the eyes, and growled,

“You think you real cute, huh?” letting Brock suck on his thumb.

Then his eyes snapped up to meet Brock’s. “I’ma fuck you. How bout that?”

Brock wasn’t putting up any arguments.

It was strange and new to feel Jose inside him. Bent over the dressing room sink, the porcelain cold under his hands, watching Jose over his shoulder in the mirror biting his lip and running his hands over the curve of Brock’s ass as he fucked into him at a demanding pace, fast enough it burned.

He didn't usually like getting fucked. The rare times he'd tried he found the discomfort outweighed the pleasure. Jose was intimidatingly thick for anywhere that wasn't Brock's eager mouth. Not small by any means. But surprisingly Brock found his size easy enough to take, or maybe he was relaxed and turned on enough with him, that now it just felt good, the slight burn even adding to it. Weird but hot. It was new territory for them, but he liked it. 

It was Jose, of course he liked it.

It also felt like punishment, redemption, or something, and after the tense week Brock was more than ready to be redeemed. He didn’t think about it too deeply. He was into it.

“Tell me bitch. Tell me this ass mine,” Jose was in a _mood_. He slapped the fullest part of Brock’s ass cheek and then stroked his warm palm over the sting.

“It’s yours, fuck, this is so good. It’s yours,” he knew Jose meant it in a deeper sense, that this was doing something cathartic for him with their current situation, but fuck it just felt good. Whatever Jose wanted him to say, he’d say it. Anything to keep the hot curl of pleasure building.

“Say it again,” Jose’s palm slid up his back, resting between his shoulder blades, bending him further over.

“Yours, Papi,” Brock rolled his hips back into it, tilted his ass up, wanting more, more, more.

“That’s how I got it?” Jose took the hint, fucked him harder.

“Yeah, fuck yes, why haven’t we done this before?” Brock whined. Jose hadn’t made any move to touch his leaking dick and at the look on his face Brock hadn’t dared touch it himself.

Jose looked a disorienting combination of familiarly turned on and angry like Brock had never seen him before. Why was it so hot? Giving in, Brock took a hand off the sink to stroke his aching dick.

“Shut up ho,” Jose slapped his hand away, grabbing his wrist, sliding his hand up, linking their fingers and putting their hands together back on the porcelain, still gripping Brock’s hip with his other hand.

“That dick mine and this ass mine. Is that how I got it, bitch?” he asked more forcefully.

“Yes Papi, fuck,” Brock really did feel like a whore who’d been bad fucking like this and it was honestly fun.

It was a little weird for him not to be the one doing the holding down, the squeezing, the fucking. But it was working for him today. The wrongness was part of the fun of it.

When Jose smacked his ass hard again he came, dick untouched, the sudden dizzying pleasure taking him by surprise as he panted into the sink. Jose followed soon after, making a noise that was more a frustrated growl than his usual moan, resting his forehead against Brock’s back, exhaling hotly onto his shoulder blade.

“Good. That how I thought I had it.” he said into the skin of Brock’s back.

He leaned up on his toes and bit where Brock’s neck met his shoulder, Brock making a pleased, surprised yelp in response, lying still and compliant beneath him even though Jose sucked hard enough to leave a mark.

It was all just surprising and hot, his dick already starting to twitch up again beneath them.

Then Jose pulled out and left to clean himself up, leaving one more stinging smack to his ass. No kisses, no jokes, no cute comments. He got in his Lyft while Brock was in the bathroom, leaving him to get to the bar himself, and barely said a word to him for the rest of the night.

The following afternoon he looked over from the other side of the dressing room at Brock applying orange color corrector to the bite on his neck that was now a huge dark purple hickey, glaring on his otherwise pristine pale muscled decolletage. Jose pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow and didn’t say anything.

Passing behind Jose in the wings later Brock overheard him in the middle of declaring, "...actin' like a ho, then you gon be gettin' treated like a ho..." grumpily to A'Keria, as she looked at him intently, speaking with soft concern, something about deserving and self worth, too quiet to hear. Brock carried on walking before they saw him. For all he knew that conversation had nothing to do with him.

It took over a week before they were back to snuggling and friendly teasing and stealing kisses.

As soon as they were Jose was extra attentive and affectionate, as though all the love he’d been hoarding away while he was working through his anger had been saving itself up.

The hickey was still gently fading, blueish green now, the teeth marks faint. Jose pressed delicate kisses to it when they cuddled, ran his fingers over the spot even when it was covered with makeup.

He didn't outwardly apologize but it seemed like he felt bad. It had been an overreaction for sure but Brock wasn’t complaining. It had felt horrible to be not talking to him, to feel like he’d upset him, to have tension between them. Weird to not be treated like Jose’s favorite person for even a second. But that sex had been hot. And it’s not like there hadn’t been other people on tour to talk to, or like Jose could have kept ignoring him for long. As an expert in bottling feelings, he’d weathered worse.

Still, he made sure Jose didn’t catch him with trade again. For the structural integrity of America’s dressing room sinks, if nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew where did that come from? Who knows! 
> 
> Bit of a departure from other things I've written, just came out. Possibly subliminally inspired by all the truly excellent smut that's being posted lately. Well done team.
> 
> Points to anyone who caught the Save The Last Dance reference!
> 
> NEW NOTE IN 2020:  
> Inspired by a friend who is doing it, I have started a new thing where if you enjoyed this story and would like to you can [buy me a digital cup of coffee](https://ko-fi.com/poppedthep). I am currently freelancing and the past couple months have been a struggle so every little helps! If you can't or don't want to that's no problem, you are still very welcome to keep reading!


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